


Until You Come Back Home

by hailynx



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Canonical Character Death, Consensual, Explicit Sexual Content, Hate Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Rough Sex, Series Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 00:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailynx/pseuds/hailynx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s always wished for it, but even with the death of the Red King, Fushimi didn’t believe that Yata would come back and be the person he once was. Isn’t it a pleasant surprise then, to find Yata sitting in front of Fushimi’s door one afternoon?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until You Come Back Home

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own K Project.  
> Please do not translate or repost/reupload.

He wonders for a moment if it’s an illusion but without approaching, he cannot make sure of it. Fushimi is honestly surprised to find Yata sitting with his legs folded against his chest in front of his apartment door. For the first time in years, the dark blue haired boy is unsure of what to do with his best friend, though there are things that come to mind when he thinks of what he has always wanted to do. He takes a step closer and kneels down in front of the smaller figure and parts his lips slowly.

 

“Misaki?”

 

Fushimi finds himself speaking gently without any malice because of the recent events. A part of him hopes that Yata is an illusion which will disappear the moment he breaks the silence, but Yata solid figure stays with his back glued to the door. Fushimi sighs at the silence but he does not bother with the question _what’s wrong_ because the problem is crystal clear. Fushimi pushes the frames of his glasses and waits for a response. It takes a while, but somehow Yata manages.

 

His voice is small and shaky but coherent enough, “Let me in.”

 

It’s clear that Yata is real but he also feels that something’s missing. Has his best friend always been so fragile? Wordlessly, Fushimi offers his hand and pulls Yata from the floor. He tosses his blazer aside the moment he steps pass the genkan and tells Yata to relax but the smaller boy simply ignores him. He knows that Yata has questions but it’s all the same if he does not have the answers. Fushimi fetches a cup of water and pushes it into Yata’s hands and then heads off to change out of his uniform. Seeing Fushimi unbutton his shirt, Yata stands up abruptly and grabs his collar violently. Yata doesn’t even notice the spilt water that is slowly soaking his socks.

 

“Don’t take it off,” he demands desperately, eyes like wobbling jellies.

 

Fushimi raises a brow but buttons his shirt back up without questions, “Alright.”

 

There is silence in the room until Fushimi turns on the television for something to distract himself. He slouches against his bed and watches the television blankly while Yata sits by him without much interest. Before awkwardness can seep in, Fushimi turns to his best friend and stares for a short moment and then decides that it will still be bitter no matter how much sugar he coats his words in.

 

“Why are you here, Misaki?” He says in his usual tone of disinterest, “I—”

 

“Shut up, Saru,” Yata glares, “I know you don’t have answers. I’m not stupid enough to think that they’d tell _you_ anything.”

 

Fushimi narrows his gaze and ties his lips together so that he won’t snap. Yata says _you_ but with the stress, he means _traitor_. There are many vicious things that Fushimi can say, but perhaps that can wait until he finds out why his best friend is here, with him, instead of the members of HOMRA. Fushimi turns his attention back to the television but continues to steal glances at Yata when he feels the ginger’s lingering gaze. Eventually sick of the unproductive game, Fushimi presses his hands against the mattress behind them and locks Yata within his gate of arms.

 

“Tell me why you’re here if you know I don’t have the answers you want.”

 

Yata squirms a little on spot and turns away, refusing to meet Fushimi’s gaze. Irritated by the rejection, Fushimi cups Yata’s chin and turns his face so that Yata sees nothing else but him. Before he can even question why there is a layer of scarlet red on Yata’s cheeks, Fushimi is silenced by soft lips that captures his roughly. Fushimi freezes in shock, until slim but nimble fingers lace through his hair and pulls him closer.

 

Parting his lips to say something— _anything_ —he’s stopped again, when Yata forces their tongue to clash. There is a small grasp that escapes Yata’s lips when Fushimi begins to probe back, his hands slipping under Yata’s shirt as their tongues battle for dominance. When they are in clear need of air, they rip their lips apart and the string of saliva that connects them breaks slowly. Yata rests his head on Fushimi’s shoulder while they both pant for air. After a few moments of silence, Yata shuffles, but this time Fushimi is faster.

 

“Who are you?”

 

Yata’s brow twitches in annoyance but he does not move. “Have you finally gone blind? Can’t see anything clearly now that your vision is clouded with power?”

 

“I’m asking you, what you did to my Misaki.”

 

“Nothing. I—didn’t you ask me to do this with you?” Yata hates that he has to bring up their past.

 

Fushimi chuckles at the ridiculous words and Yata flinches when Fushimi’s breathe brushes against the nape of his neck. It’s cool but it also burns. Fushimi advances and brushes his tongue across Yata’s neck, making him hiss as Fushimi runs his finger across Yata’s torso. The cool sensation continues to make Yata flinch and squirm.

 

“You’ve always said no,” Fushimi replies, “Said it’d hurt because you’re sure I can’t be gentle.”

 

“I’m still sure of that!” Yata yells defiantly.

 

Fushimi bites hard enough to draw blood, “Then why?”

 

“You’re annoying, Saru,” Yata glares, “If you don’t want to then I—”

 

Fushimi closes the gap between them because he doesn’t need to hear any more. The words are muffled in their kiss as Yata responds needily. Fushimi knows that Yata is capable of making him bleed. It’s not the first time and no matter how many years it has been, Fushimi still hasn’t gotten used to the fact that Suoh Mikoto is important. Should Yata drag another person into this, Fushimi may as well give into the urge to chain up the cage so that Yata cannot exit and no one else can enter.

 

Panting, Fushimi breaks away and lifts Yata onto his bed. He leans his head into Yata’s belly and twirls his tongue across Yata’s belly button and then lowering his lips as he strips the ginger of his pants. He tosses the pants and boxers aside as Yata grabs onto his hair and pants when he lowers his head to take Yata’s half hard length into his hot and wet mouth. Fushimi teases with light licks and flicks, up and down the length and probes at the slit with a grin on his lips.

 

“S-Saru…” Yata hisses.

 

Eventually Yata bucks his hips into the wet and warm mouth that is driving him crazy and pulls Fushimi closer. His voice is stuck in his throat and he can’t voice his needs, but there isn’t really a need to. Fushimi continues to work at it knowingly—licking, sucking and teasing—just like how he talks and how he acts. It’s a little bit sly and evil but most of all, Yata knows that Fushimi is enjoying every second of it.

 

“Saru… gonna… urgh!”

 

Fushimi licks roughly and sucks hard to pull Yata over the edge. The ginger climaxes with a yelp and Fushimi takes it all in. He swallows and then licks the head of Yata’s length clean and smirks when he pulls away with a _pop_. The victorious grin on his face annoys Yata. The ginger pulls at Fushimi’s hair as an act of defiance but his cheeks are blushing like autumn leaves.

 

“Hah… stupid monkey—”

 

Fushimi runs his tongue across his upper lip and his laughter rings softly like bells, “I’m glad to see that you don’t do this very often, Misaki.”

 

Yata blushes harder and sputters nonsense that even Fushimi cannot understand. He doesn’t try to either. Instead, the dark blue haired boy chuckles and pulls himself away. He’s a little annoyed at the turn of events because they can’t go all the way, even though Yata has come to offer himself. Questioning his best friend’s retreat, Yata reaches out and grabs tightly onto Fushimi’s wrist and forces their eyes to meet.

 

“We can’t today. I don’t have the stuff.”

 

Yata’s never been able to understand Fushimi’s indirect speech. “Stuff?”

 

“Items to prepare you,” Fushimi shakes his head with a sigh. “Unless you want me to lick you. Not that I mind.”

 

Yata stumbles over words that are barely above a whisper and strung together poorly but Fushimi seems to understand. He takes the invitation and leans back in, nips at Yata’s neck, licking and biting gently as his hands explore the soft, milky skin underneath the simple tee. Yata writhes under his touch but the moment he feels his shirt riding up, his hands pull Fushimi’s to a permanent stop.

 

“I said… not to take it off.”

 

Yata takes advantage of the way the Fushimi flinches when he’s in the middle of his thoughts and swaps their position around. Yata’s hand presses down on Fushimi’s chest and pauses for a short moment before he clenches against the white shirt with a pained expression on his face. It’s almost hateful. Fushimi smirks, brushing his thoughts aside as he caresses Yata’s cheeks.

 

“Regretting it?”

 

“As if!” Yata claims and presses his knee against the blue haired boy’s hidden arousal. A smirk full of mockery forms on his face as he continues to nudge and tease. “How do you like that, monkey?”

 

“ _Misaki…_ ”

 

Fushimi purrs as he pulls the ginger closer to his body. He leans his back against the backboard of his bed and lowers his hands to part Yata’s cheeks. Yata is soft, white and just plain beautiful. _God_ , Fushimi curses, _how can someone be so damn beautiful?_ Sensing the danger, Yata pulls away and glares at Fushimi defiantly.

 

“I’ll do it,” he says through gritted teeth, “You’ll take your time just to spite me.”

 

“I’m delighted, Mi-sa-ki~” Fushimi sing-songs with a gleam in his eyes, “I thought that having you here was a treat but the offer to let me watch you finger—”

 

Yata shoves his fingers into Fushimi’s mouth violently to shut him up. He is already embarrassed enough as it is, he did not need the extra commentary. Yata narrows his eyes as Fushimi twirls his tongue around the fingers to make sure that they were wet and smooth. He hated the way his best friend always looked like he was in control. Even in this state, Fushimi looks completely at ease, composed and fully satisfied.

 

“You better shut up while I do this or else,” Yata warns.

 

Fushimi smirks and replies merrily, “Yes, yes.”

 

Yata shuts his eyes so that he doesn’t have to see Fushimi watching him carefully. With slightly shaky hands, Yata slips a finger between his cheeks and probes at the ring of muscle and then with more determination, swirling saliva over the hole and then plunging his finger in. The odd sensation makes him stop and Yata is surprised to find that Fushimi is just watching intently. There are no words that escape his lips to tease and provoke Yata.

 

Instead, Fushimi plants kisses across Yata’s cheeks and whispers gently words, “Relax and breathe, Misaki.”

 

The rest of Yata’s preparation is sloppy. He is not impatient but Yata didn’t want the full preparation. Fushimi has a smug expression on his face and his endurance annoys Yata. Although his arousal is still trapped within his trousers, Fushimi looks more comfortable than ever. Exhaling, Yata holds firmly onto Fushimi’s shoulder and pulls his fingers out. He frees Fushimi’s hard length and wraps his fingers around it, pumping and smearing the pre-cum over the length to make it smooth and wet. He pumps slowly to tease but the twitching of the hot rod in his hands make his cheeks flush.

 

“Misaki… if you make a face like that…” Fushimi’s voice is shaky as he bucks his hips. “God damn it… Misaki!”

 

“I told you not to call me that you stupid monkey!”

 

“Oh, no, no, no.” Fushimi shakes his head as Yata lines the head of his cock against the hot and wet opening, “Misaki, you’re not ready. You did— _ah_!”

 

A desperate gasp escapes Yata’s throat as he thrusts down in one quick movement. Fushimi is completely sheathed inside and is throbbing but refuses to move. The walls are wet, hot and tight, inviting him to thrust but Fushimi stands his ground. He wants give in and move but he knows that his best friend is in pain. The hand that was on his shoulder is now clenching at the cloth that sits on the left of his chest. Yata’s eyes are hazed and forming tears, but his expression is a mixture of hate and jealousy. A mocking _heh_ rolls off Fushimi’s tongue as he comes to terms with Yata’s conditions.

 

“Are you thinking about him?” He asks as he pulls his length out, leaving only the tip inside and then thrusting in, hard and deep, “That indirect kiss maybe?”

 

“ _Hah!_ ”

 

Yata’s face contorts with pain but he doesn’t complain. Fushimi is not kind and once he catches on, there are likely to be two options that he will make use of. Yata doesn’t doubt that for a second. Even if they haven’t been together for years now, he’s sure he knows Fushimi better than anyone else. Fushimi pauses, removes his glasses and tosses them aside.

 

“I thought you couldn’t see without them,” Yata comments, ignoring the questions.

 

“If we’re this close,” Fushimi replies and captures Yata’s lips, “I’ll be fine.”

 

Fushimi kisses with a deadly force, claiming and daring Yata to think about someone else. Yata’s response is half-hearted as he tunes into the pain, but he isn’t thinking about anyone else. The pain accompanying the growing pleasure clouds his judgement and Yata feels lighter with each thrust that Fushimi delivers. Fushimi’s thrusts are powerful and deep. He fills Yata to the hilt each time and when he enters again, he pushes harder, as if it will never be enough.

 

“Misaki,” Fushimi purrs, “How can you— _urgh_.”

 

Yata rolls his hips and forces Fushimi to stop thinking, talking and feeling. Fushimi focuses on the heat of his best friend’s walls wrapping around him and his feelings are a combination of pain and pleasure. He wants to make a mess out of his best friend but he also knows that Yata is in pain. He can see it in Yata’s eyes but he feels that it’s impossible to stop now that his endurance is broken.

 

“What’s this?” Yata questions between gasps, “Are you _scared_?”

 

A scoff leaves Fushimi’s throat as he lowers his hands and grabs hold of Yata’s cheeks, parting them and thrusting in deeper. As he grows accustomed to it, the pain seems to subside. Yata ends up writhing in pleasure, purring and moaning into Fushimi’s ears. _Mine, mine, mine_ , Fushimi thinks as Yata’s breathe brushes against the lobe of his ear.

 

“Shut up, Saru.” Yata repeats the same old phrase, “You’re thinking out loud.”

 

Fushimi ignores the comment and wraps his fingers around Yata’s arousal. He feels his release coming but he’s competitive so he decides that he won’t come first. He pumps Yata’s length and allows Yata to do the moving. The ginger uses Fushimi’s shoulder for support, lifts his body up and slams it back down. Yata screams out in pleasure and climaxes when he finally hits his prostate. Fushimi gives another deep and hard thrust, making Yata’s body shudder. The ginger’s walls tighten around Fushimi’s length and he releases inside.

 

“Did you just—”

 

Fushimi presses their lips together, “Shh.”

 

Fushimi is panting just as much as Yata is but he still has enough energy to plant butterfly kisses across Yata’s cheeks all the way to his forehead. He finally pulls out and sets Yata’s body down on the mattress. Breathing heavily, Yata presses his body against Fushimi’s and closes his eyes. He feels sore and wet but doesn’t voice any complaints. Normally he would have given Fushimi a piece of his mind, but that can wait. Lazy eyes get the better of Yata and he falls into a light sleep within Fushimi’s embrace. Fushimi too, shuts his eyes for a short period of time before he rips away from the warmth.

 

“I’m surprised you didn’t bleed,” Fushimi murmurs to a sleeping Yata as he cleans the lithe body, “Can’t believe I allowed you to seduce me into this.”

 

Fushimi tucks Yata in and finds his way towards the bathroom. He strips himself of the uniform and takes a quick shower. When he faces the mirror with the towel draped around his neck he stares at the burn mark that’s left behind. That’s all there is, but it seems like to Yata, it’s more than enough of a reason to be jealous. _It’s probably a symbolic thing_ , Fushimi thinks. He runs his fingers through his hair as he exits and pulls the towel off his shoulder. Fushimi sculls down a glass of water and then heads back over to the bed.

 

There is a faint smile on Fushimi’s face as he brushes Yata’s locks aside and places a soft peck the ginger’s forehead. He then sits back down, leaning forward and using his arm as a pillow as he studies Yata’s peaceful sleeping face. When Yata turns away, Fushimi does the same. He leans against his bed and flips his head back to stare at the blank ceiling.

 

“Hey Misaki,” Fushimi calls out to his best friend who is feigning sleep, “When this stops hurting, what are you going to do?”

 

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> First smut... it was difficult (inside joke for you, fartsyland, if you ever stumble upon this). I was so embarrassed and I kept cutting up my writing even though I was on good flow. I feel like it's almost PWP, but there was meant to be a plot...? Is it even visible? Please forgive any OOCness, I'm pretty bad at keeping them in character and I feel like this is boring orz.


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